


Song Of The Night

by LilacCrocuta



Series: Medieval Septiplier [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Australia, Gaelic Language, M/M, Mild Blood, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Singing, Snakes, Spiders, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:53:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacCrocuta/pseuds/LilacCrocuta
Summary: Seán doesn't send a letter to King Mark during his visit to Australia. Mark assumes the worst during a thunderstorm back at the palace.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin
Series: Medieval Septiplier [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681588
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	Song Of The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up guys, if you're arachnophobic, aquaphobic, or have a fear of snakes, crocodiles, sharks, etc, TURN AROUND.

Two weeks.

It’d been two whole weeks since Seán had left Youtubia to sail to Australia with Sir Tyler and Sir Ethan to discuss business with the current king there.

Mark hadn’t gotten a single letter since the previous week, and that deeply unnerved him.

Trembling and feeling sick with worry, the king laid in a fetal position in his unnaturally empty bed, clutching the blankets to his chest to try and relax. But his efforts were in vain it seemed, so he considered something that always calmed him down—the stars. He could look to them for comfort, right?

The second he managed to hobble all the way to the balcony to stargaze, however, he immediately discovered that even that idea was futile on this night, as a storm was beginning to blanket the land, blotting out those glistening dots in the sky that he adored so much.

_Okay, don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic._ Mark tried to relax, making his way back to bed on shaking legs and instantly huddling underneath the covers as the horrible what-ifs began to plague his frenzied mind.

From what he’d heard about Australia, barely anything there was considered safe. The waters were definitely dangerous, as they contained all sorts of monsters like Saltwater crocodiles—the largest reptiles currently alive—jellyfish that could kill a man with one sting, venomous snakes, and even Great White Sharks. The land was almost just as bad. There were highly lethal spiders roaming freely about, wild dogs, and hell, even the herbivores there were deadly in their own way!

The longer he laid there in a trembling ball, the more he began to fear that Seán may have run into trouble during his stay in Australia. And worst of all, his love was on another continent entirely, and he couldn’t just _fly_ there and even if he could, it might already be too late, and—

_**BOOOOOOOOM!** _

Mark jumped nearly off the bed as an earthshaking rumble of thunder shook the castle from outside, only worsening his panic. He began hyperventilating, gripping the blankets till his knuckles were white. The flash of lightning he caught moments later didn’t help at all either, and more horrible thoughts began to come to the king.

He imagined the love of his life in the middle of writing back to his last letter, only to be bitten by one of those deadly spiders he’d heard of. Or worse, Seán sleeping in his bed, being ambushed by a taipan snake. Or worse more, he could have made the potentially fatal error of going _swimming_ in such a horrid land and ultimately getting dragged far below the depths by some bloodthirsty monster intent on tearing him limb from limb, letting his blood cloud the water—

By that point, Mark was a shaking, sobbing mess. He couldn’t breathe, nor think as the storm outside continued to rage onwards, as did the storm inside of him. _He wanted Seán, he wanted Seán, he wanted him so badly._

The king was caught up so deeply in his own panic that he didn’t register a pair of strong arms lifting him into a sitting position and pulling him close against a firm chest until a voice began singing into his ear.

_“Óró sé do Bheatha Bhaile, Óró sé do Bheatha Bhaile, Óró sé do Bheatha Bhaileeeee, Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh….”_

Slowly, Mark’s frenzied brain registered the language that song was in—Gaelic. And more importantly, he registered the voice that was singing it.

The king looked up, choking back a sob of relief and sheer joy as Seán met his eyes with a sympathetic smile, before wiping his tears away with a gentle thumb.

“Ye really got scared for me, didn’t ye, love?” Seán murmured, earning a nod and a tight hug from the other man, as Mark’s heart rate began to settle.

The storm was still going on outside, but it didn’t matter now.

No, Mark knew, meeting Seán halfway in a tender kiss. It didn’t matter one bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, y'all, this wont be the last mention of who Seán was visiting over in Australia. In fact, there's gonna be a guest appearance in another upcoming fic by...well, you'll see.  
> Stay indoors, stay safe, don't touch your face, and peace out!


End file.
